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[color=Silver][sub]December 30th - Frontline Trench[/sub][/color]

[sub]Interacting with: [@Landaus Five-One] | [@AdmrlStalfos19][/sub]

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[color=Silver]	There was a lot of waiting around, as there usually was. The day of monotonous postings and just being present for an attack that was yet to come and go trialled many young soldiers through sickly tests of boredom. Some officers made it clear that it was better than constant distraction. Those who were bored actively looked for things to do, and thus it made them more attentive to what went on out in No Man's Land. And with the ever-looming threat of raids, observers, wirecutters and more, the emphasised attention was all welcomed to those along the Western Front. Jean, having spent much of his time there, indulged himself in writing and poetry, but it only lasted for as long as his creativity and graphite did - the rest of that time was spent either engaging in menial talk with local soldiers he'd never seen or listening out for the slightest discrepancy in the natural order of things.

	Lucia dawdled in thought as she said her greetings to passing privates and corporals. Many had grown to appreciate her presence, from the men who saw her as the platoon's daughter to the women who adored her somewhat dazzling appearance throughout the muck and mud of the trenches. Of course, there were the belligerents. Some saw her connections to the officers as a sell-out or as a shill for the authorities at large. Hell, even Jean wasn't fully aware of her origins, and so rumours were more than fair game against the young soul. She'd grown used to hearing all of them and seemingly ignored that as they came her way. Not many dared to challenge her connections to power for fear of an officer's punishment, yet Jean begged to differ that her placement in the platoon was not one of privilege but misfortune. She maintained the few minutes they spent idle with her hellos and goodbyes, the yes and noes, and the common courtesies given to her through rigorous teaching from her superiors. It was hard to imagine that she was more of a veteran than he was, yet three years the younger. Horrendous irony, if anything.

	On approach came another familiar face. Diana. Private Vastergoth. The woman who'd once tried to entangle with him and left with a little disappointment. No matter, he thought, she'd had her chance with but another man, and to that he cared very little of. It wasn't a bitterness towards her, just rather the place he had been in around that time. Even then, he'd grown distant from her both from common assignment and tedious postings along the front. He barely shared a sentry's post with those he knew, bar the odd one with Michael or Franz, yet he'd remained relatively inactive even out of duty hours. Obviously it was the dragged mood that weighed him down enough to note give so much of a damn, but he slowly crawled out of that shell if necessary. After all, he hadn't been so well since Reyna had since left the frontline.

	Diana made her greetings with somewhat of a chipper-cheerio tune. But at first Jean didn't answer. He slowly turned to Lucia, expecting her to have more to say either way. And she did.[/color]

[color=A9FF7D][b]"I'm not doing too bad myself. Things have been as dull as the usual, but it's been warmer in the command trench than out there."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She blew into the air, emphasising the temperature drop over the previous weeks. Ice and snow for as far as the eye could see. It did little to give the soldiers a little slack after all they'd been through.[/color] [color=A9FF7D][b]"We're gonna be heading to the village in a second. Just waiting for the clock to strike-"[/b][/color]

[color=03DAED][b]"Speak of the devil."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As Lucia had lost herself in conversation, Jean had been looking at a small pocket watch he'd been given as per his rank. Then, he returned his gaze to the visiting ally.[/color] [color=03DAED][b]"I'm the usual. You're free to join us."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Getting up and onto his boots, he stretched his arms down the aisle and exhaled. There was immense fatigue in his eyes, the glimmer all gone and faded for the countless weeks spend staring at grey and brown, black and red. He began their walk with a little flex of his fingers, bending them back into life after their idle slumber on his pencil. And as they walked, he went beside Diana, with Lucia taking the pathfinding duty of navigating the narrow trenchlines. They sauntered past the frontline support trench at first, doing their best to distance themselves from the command trench, all the while cutting it close. Luck was on their side, however, as their main obstacle, the one and only Captain Middleton, had stationed himself near permanently in that command dugout. It had what he needed - bedding, space to plan and radio equipment, and he only seemed to emerge to shower, as he sent for someone else to get him light meals as he did so. Even so, Lucia had once told him of his activities inside, where he'd be all over, making sure he was never just lounging about doing nothing.

	But as he was pushing past the bodies, which in and of itself wasn't too difficult, he made his way into the vicinity of another soldier of whom he hadn't met. A somewhat averagely sized woman, kitted out with the standard military outfitting. She was a fellow Darcsen as well. Small bonuses, he thought, as she sort of waved in his general direction upon his passing.[/color]

[color=92278f][b]"Hey, hold up!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As if he hadn't seen her the first time, she beckoned for his attention and stepped before him.[/color] [color=92278f][b]"Jean? Jean Charpentier? Private Mehetabel. I've been transferred to your own platoon."[/b][/color]

[color=03DAED][b]"My Platoon?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He rubbed his eyes, signalling for Lucia and Diana to head up ahead a little bit, though not too far to be out of eye and earshot.[/color] [color=03DAED][b]"It's...Corporal Robin-Charpentier, but yeah, that's me."[/b][/color]

[color=92278f][b]"Seriously?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Mehetabel furrowed her brow as she asked this, mostly to herself. She could've sworn that Robin part of Jean's name was a middle name but, realising it didn't matter, she shook her head.[/color] [color=92278f][b]"Yes, your platoon,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]she moved on to clarify,[/color] [color=92278f][b]"I take it you're the guy in charge?"[/b][/color]

[color=03DAED][b]"No, I'm just a Corporal. Platoon belongs to the Lieutenants, but we all fall under the Captain's brow nowadays."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean wasn't quite sure how she got the mix-up. I mean, judging by the differentiation in accent, anything was possible, so he didn't press in on the cause of the mistake. He didn't look directly at her much, but gave her the odd glimpse or two to make sure she knew he was at least listening. He then pointed to the two others who had been accompanying him.[/color] [color=03DAED][b]"That there is Private Lucia Farris and Private Diana Vastergoth. They're also in the platoon. The rest are scattered across the system here and there but I'm sure you'll bump into them eventually. Been here long?"[/b][/color]

[color=92278f][b]"God damn it, that asshole lied to me,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Mehetabel took a moment to grumble before actually answering Jean's question,[/color] [color=92278f][b]"Not long enough apparently. Got kicked off that other platoon within a month. My last commanding officer's a real piece of work, lemme tell you. And that's putting it lightly..."[/b][/color]

[color=03DAED][b]"Word of advice,[/b][/color] [color=Silver]he sighed and looked to the grim sky of the December frostbite,[/color] [color=03DAED][b]"try not to get kicked out of this one either. You won't find an officer with a speck of kindness here."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	He walked a bit further down the trench, ensuring he wasn't in line of sight of the command trench. He wasn't sure what Mehetabel was up to, considering she'd just been dawdling around the support trench seemingly expectant of his arrival. Jean made way, using a single finger to beckon her audience.[/color]

[color=03DAED][b]"I'm headed to Trebín now. If you aren't on assignment you're free to latch on, maybe meet with the others. I don't know. Lucia might be one to talk up a storm."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]There wasn't an inch of enthusiasm in his voice. Perhaps it was just the fatigue getting to him, or maybe he'd grown tired of waking up and finding new people to look at, to compliment and feel a flutter in his heart as he connected to them, only for them to be shot, injured or killed. The cycle of unending disappointment. Though his platoon seemed as well-kept as some, there was already quite a long list of names of those who'd came and went in the blink of an eye. If hell existed, by lord he was trapped in its mechanical devices.[/color]

	[color=Silver]However to his surprise, whilst taking a glance at her watch, Mehetabel rolled her eyes, noting that she'd already spent more time with this conversation than she really wanted to. She looked Jean square in the eyes one last time.[/color]

[color=92278f][b]"Yeah... I gotta head back and get some more target practice in,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]she told him; she observed her surroundings again at this time as well, only to realise that she never really got the chance to fully acclimate herself with these accursed trenches,[/color] [color=92278f][b]"Remind me where the shooting range is from here, again? Trying to navigate these things is such a pain in the ass..."[/b][/color]

	[color=Silver]And so, with departure of Mehetabel, Jean made his own headway for Trebín whilst waving her off with a silent hand. He had a room booked out for himself, a small cubby hovel in the attic of one of the more emptier homes, half standing if anything. It was what as much privacy as one in the military could get out there.[/color]